Blood in the sand
by ReeReeWithAngst
Summary: Set in 1999, four year old Octavian is brought on a vacation to the beach. An innocent enough venture, but things starting going wrong, going strange, going prophetic... The seams begin to tear.
1. Perfect Vacation

**So I was doing research for this story since it's set in 1999. I wanted it to be set at Dillon's Beach Resort in California, as the nature of a beach owned by a resort and open to the public for a small fee, with cottages you could rent out, seemed perfectly in tune with the Alexander family image. That being said the resort seems to not have opened until 2001 if Wikipedia serves correct.**

 **I'm going to set the story on this beach anyway, under the reasonable-ish assumption that there were cottages/cabins available to rent before the resort opened.**

 **I do not know. I have never been to California. Nonetheless, enjoy.**

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It was the last birthday present he would ever receive, but he didn't know that. He was four years old, you don't just know that kind of thing as a four year old. He was excited, it was promising. It was really the first time they'd ever technically gone on vacation as a family. They'd packed into a 1998 BMW 5 series, their newest car, because goodness knows the Alexander family couldn't survive without a new car every three or four years. About six years ago Victoria Dawn Alexander would have gotten a convertible, specifically a mustang convertible, however, it wasn't exactly a family friendly car, and this one served them nicely. Little Octavian was in the back dozing, tired from the long trip. Okay, so it was less than two hours. But the quieter he was the better. If the little boy upset her husband now the whole trip would be ruined. She glanced back at him and then towards Steve. He'd insisted on driving and she hadn't wanted to say no. Sometimes it was a little dangerous saying no. And this trip, their first trip, their last trip, it was an important trip.

It was more important than she ever could of imagined. They pulled up to their cabin around 12:30, Octavian just starting to wake up, hugging his stuffed raccoon and mumbling about being hungry. She placated him with promises of food as soon as they settled in to their cabin. It was all she could do to not check her phone. This trip was for family, not business, and it would agitate both her son and her husband if she put family aside for her business. Apollo knows she couldn't be happy or successful or career minded without someone in her family becoming agitated. And if someone in her family became agitated someone else would become agitated and the world might end and whatever. She sighed as she lifted Octavian from his booster seat. He smiled widely at her and hugged her neck. It was so very nice when both of her boys were happy...

"Come on kiddo, let's go see our cabin." He clung to her and the stuffed raccoon, and headed to the door, Steve unlocking it for them.

"Thank you dear," She said, kissing her husband's cheek before stepping inside, still struggling not to check her phone for information regarding her restaurant chain. This week had to go perfectly, had to go right, both for her business and her family. If anything went wrong she would never forgive herself. If for even a second she stopped showing signs of perfection and strength... She felt her son's chubby fingers tracing the lines on her arm.

"Mommy what's it say?" He asked for the hundredth time.

"SPQR, dear. It means Senatus Populusque Romanus. The senate and the people. When you grow up you're going to enjoy power as a legacy of Apollo. You're going to make me and your father very proud. I bet you're going to be a Praetor."

"What's that mommy?" The sleepy, hungry little boy asked. Her husband looked at her, like go on in we don't have all day, although they did, that was the whole point of a vacation.

"Well," She said, walking inside and looking around,

"It's a man or woman who has most of the power at Camp Jupiter. When I was thirteen I became Praetor." Octavian's eyes were wide and he nodded.

"I'll be praetor too mommy. I promise."

"Good." She kissed his forehead.

"I believe you." Steve cleared his throat, making it obvious he wanted no part in discussion of praetorship or gods in general. While Victoria had found comfort in the gods, and happiness, and power, his life and his family had only suffered at the hands of the gods. To spare the three of them any more pain she tactfully switched the conversation to lunch.

"We brought lunch meat and bread for lunches, what would you like Steve?" The discussed food for awhile while Octavian explored the new house, which was much smaller than the Sacramento mansion. This place was much cozier. He followed his parents into the kitchen and looked around while his mother made sandwiches. As interesting as it was to watch his mother cook- she usually never did- it was much more interesting to look at the kitchen. On the refrigerator there was a paper screaming FUN and some things he couldn't read, on the wall there were tacky seashell decorations, and on the counter there was a thing of knives. Inwardly, without realizing it, he made a mental note of the placement of the knives. Of course, as a little boy who's sandwich was ready, he didn't really notice that he made a mental note of that. And neither of his parents noticed him briefly studying the shiny knives. Their minds were as preoccupied as his. After lunch they would hit the beach for the first time and, even though Octavian had gotten expensive swimming lessons, Victoria hadn't been swimming in what felt like forever.

So after they'd eaten she went to change into her swim suit and left Steve in charge of Octavian. It wasn't necessarily the best idea. He would probably be fine though, most likely. All Steve had to do was change Octavian into his swim trunks, and as long as the little boy didn't fuss, the vacation would continue to go seamlessly.

She came out in her suit, her husband and little boy already ready. Steve had opted out of going swimming, so he merely set Octavian down on the sand and watched the boy and his wife head toward the ocean. Octavian took tentative steps on the sand, slipping and almost cutting his foot. Victoria picked him back up.

Seamless.

Little did she know, things couldn't stay seamless forever.

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 **This is going to get a lot darker... This chapter was definitely light, forshadowey, and a little bit redemption giving for Victoria... Oops? I don't know. It's hard to hate her right now.**


	2. Thunderstorms

**I don't have all the details of Victoria figured out, this story is as much for her as it is for Octavian (though I never intended it to be) but I think I'll make her 30. Having had Octavian at age 26, become a business mogul who knows when (prob 24) and been married since, let's say, 20, to Steve who is, in 1999, 32. That would mean she was born in 1969.**

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Little footprints in the sand quickly washed away when the storm started. It was the first of many storms that would virtually ruin Victoria Dawn Alexander's perfectly planned family vacation. The meteorologists had been terribly wrong and it was tempting to just give up and curse Jupiter. But she wasn't the give up type of person, never had been. And they'd been looking so forward to this vacation, at least, she had. She wanted to prove to the world, or at least to herself that her family was perfect. Everything she'd worked hard for was perfection. Her praetorship, her education, her business, her marriage, her family, it all had to be perfect. This vacation was _not_ perfect.

Octavian was crying, Steve's eyes said I told you so, and the electricity had already almost gone out. She would sue if her cabin lost electricity for good. It didn't help that Octavian was scared of the thunder. She picked him up and held him close, murmuring soothingly. She wasn't as good at the soothing part, but if she wanted their vacation to go seamlessly, the little boy needed to shut up.

"There there Octavian. Um... Hold on." She racked her brain for something to calm the frightened boy down. Her brain fixated on something that had calmed her down as a child when she'd been afraid of thunder. The words were nonsense, babble, she only really remembered the tune but it was working. As she sang he quieted and his tears stopped falling. She held him close against her chest and for a few brief moments felt the warmth of when her mother had sung to her. That had been a long time ago. Soon the bit of warmth passed away from her.

"You okay now buddy?" The kiddo nodded. He shifted, holding his stuffed raccoon.

"You happy?" She asked, loud enough for Steve to hear.

"Yeah!" Her husband came over. He was the quiet type, which is one of the things that had drawn her to him. He held up a puzzle. With both of her boys calm and happy her perfect vacation was back on track.

"Alright. Let's do a puzzle." She set Octavian down on the ground and went over to the dining room table with the puzzle Steve had found. Five hundred pieces. It had been a long time since they'd worked on anything together. After this vacation, it might be a long time again. Which is why this one had to go seamlessly. She studied the pieces and looked for the perfect edges, too distracted to notice Octavian waddling towards the kitchen, his toy in tow. His family was distracted putting themselves back together. He plopped down on the floor and began to play with his friend when something shiny caught his eye. The kitchen knives. He stood up and tried to reach the counter, but he couldn't. Then he went back out to his room and climbed into bed.

"MOMMY! DADDY! TUCK ME IN." He bellowed, grabbing every toy he had brought and piling it up on the bed. His mother sighed, his father trailing behind looking agitated, his eyebrows raised.

"Tuck me in please daddy?" He begged with a smile. His father couldn't resist the smile and moved over to the bed, Victoria trailing. Together they tucked in their son, the storm still raging outside. This was one of the last times the things would be good.

Octavian went to sleep dreaming of the storm, fearing, in his dreams crying while in the little beach room not making a sound. He dreamed that his toys protected him, that they wouldn't desert him, and that, for the night, he was safe.

It was still raining when he woke up. Victoria and Steve had finished their puzzle, and she was tired of sitting around on her butt during her seamless vacation. So she made sure that Octavian was well dressed, well fed, and ready to go, with Steve similarly ready, and marched her little family out on a shopping expedition.

They left at 9:15 and her boys were complaining by 9:45. Steve mostly complained with his eyes. He was like a puppy dog. He was the best at making a scene but he didn't like to do it except when necessary. Of course it was of Victoria's opinion that it was rarely necessary and _never_ necessary when their son was involved, but she still let Steve do what he felt he had to when he got agitated. As long as they appeared perfect, it didn't really matter. In her heart, the same place that had felt that warm and fuzzy tug the day before, she knew that that wasn't true, but she let it go as she paused to admire a price tag.

"Each of you get to pick out one thing today. And I"ll find you both some outfits as well. Then we'll go somewhere nice for lunch, and maybe to a movie afterwards. I think The Iron Giant is in the theater here. Octavian will love that." She placated both father and son with about as much ease as handling a business deal for her restaurant chain. She just had to keep them happy for a little while longer and hope the rain let up before tomorrow so the three of them could actually enjoy the ocean. She remembered her years as praetor and her visits to the San Francisco Bay. She wanted this trip to be as enjoyable and perfect as those trips. But for now, shopping would have to do.

Steve, the English major, got a novel from a bookstore, and Octavian picked out a coloring book and some crayons. Both were delighted with their purchases, but less delighted when Victoria made them try on clothes. The fancy dress clothes she picked out for her son would go to waste for six more years as Octavian never got the chance to wear them but one day his future brother would, but it made her happy to buy them and envision Octavian all dressed up at a catered dinner party with one of her clients. And the outfits she bought for Steve served the same purpose, making her family look the best. She also caved and bought some tacky souvenir T-shirts for all three. Why not remember the perfect family vacation?

And that's how the day felt, nearly almost perfect. Except Octavian would jump every time the thunder got especially loud, and she and her son both had nightmares that night. Octavian's were much more vivid than hers, nearly, in fact, prophetic.

He saw specks of blood mixed with granules of sand, and heard screams, and felt the beating of rainwater as lightning flashed nearby. But then the waves caught up the blood, and with that the remainder of the bloody sand and the prophecy, were gone. Little did he know, that worse was yet to come.

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 **UGH MORE SET UP REE REE YOU'RE THE WORST. Just kidding. One more chapter guys I promise. Everything's been building up to this next chapter.**

 **Sorry it's so foreshadowy... But guys I love writing Victoria Alexander as if she has a heart, kinda! And Steve as if he's a person deep down inside somewhere! I might actually write them more fanfics.**

 **They might actually get a chance to thrive!**

 **And check out Garden Wall, a collab between Silverhuntresses and I, on her page.**


	3. Wet sand

**I CAN'T BELIEVE THAT I'VE DEVELOPED A LOVE FOR STEVE AND VICTORIA IN LIKE TWO MONTHS. PLEASE HELP ME. I ONCE THOUGHT I COULDN'T LOVE OCTAVIAN EITHER. UGH. I NEED HELP.**

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She wasn't accustomed to pacing this much. Oh she had paced in her past life, at camp when she was working on a particularly difficult problem. Now she had someone to problem solve with, her devoted but broken husband. In those years of her marriage she wasn't always afraid to go to him with her problems. Usually, she did. Now though it would wreck something, something seamless that she was trying so hard to keep together. If she had been younger she might've cried. She didn't cry anymore.

Her son however?

He woke up crying. She went in and sung a little, still pacing to herself.

"Mommy is it still raining?"

"Yes sweetheart. But the thunder stopped. We can go see the ocean today if you want." He beamed and she smiled.

"Come on baby. Let's get ready and we'll go out and see, okay?" He nodded, then paused.

"Mommy is daddy upset?"

"Daddy just wants you and me to be happy so no one has to get hurt." She wasn't lying, and that, for the moment, seemed to be like enough for him. But _only_ for a moment. Then he got dressed, and they headed out for the sand and the sea.

His little bare feet made deep impressions in the wet sand as he headed toward the waves. Steve was watching but hung back, smiling, listening to his son laugh. That was his favorite sound, that and Victoria singing. She hummed now as she followed him to the ocean, yelling out,

"Be careful little one!" He slowed down a little, but was eager to get in the water. Of course he was soaked before he could dip a toe in the water. It was raining enough to get them all wet, but then again, that was the purpose of coming to the beach, right?

He played and splashed for awhile before the thunder started again and he ran in terror toward his mother. Now his normal fear was enhanced by the nightmare of the day before. She carried him inside and set him in the bath tub. After he was clean she instructed him not to go outside and get messy again. Then she made him a grilled cheese and left him in the kitchen to eat an color while she went out to make amends with her soggy beloved.

"Hey, I'm sorry the vacation has been less then perfect." He kissed her.

"You make it perfect. I don't mind the rain. Just as long as you're both happy." She smiled, and it wasn't for once one of her forced smiles. She was actually genuinely happy. That was all about to fall apart though.

She'd left Octavian alone. She'd said don't go outside, not don't touch the knives, so really he was only breaking one rule when he stumbled out on the back porch of the beach house with one of the shiny knives he'd climbed on a chair to get to. It really was something beautiful.

His pudgy little face was reflected back, and water was falling on both it and his nice dry clothes that they'd bought yesterday from a gift shop.

Then lightning flashed in the sky and he stumbled back, scraping his arm with the knife. The pain didn't bother him, he was used to pain. It was this other thing he wasn't used to. This feeling of prophecy. He knew something, saw something. It was beautiful, it was terrifying, somehow he knew, it was the future. He was almost afraid to face it, but he wanted to see more. So the next cut was deliberate. He did whatever he had to.

"Octavian?" His mom called, coming into the kitchen, and then seeing the door open. She was prepared to scold him for going outside without permission. Steve might've ended up spanking him, if that had been the case.

Then she screamed.

Steve grabbed her arm in shock so suddenly that he nearly accidentally broke her wrist. she pulled away quickly to run to her son, who was in a trance.

"Baby!" She screamed and cried, pulling him close. That shook him out of the vision as deep cuts on his arms mixed with rain water and dripped on to the sand.

"Come on we're getting you to the nearest hospital." He began to cry as if just now realizing he'd done something wrong, or maybe to regret the end of his visions, and she scooped him up, pulling the knife from his hand and throwing it down, muttering fearfully. She'd never been this afraid before. Never felt this overwhelmed.

Steve Alexander put all of his agitation and fear into driving as quickly as he could. Victoria didn't even buckle Octavian into his booster seat, she just held onto him muttering soothing things both for herself and for him, and singing quietly a made up jumble that she wished had the power to fix her son, her family, her life.

And she prayed. Oh how hard she prayed, to the father she'd never met, who'd never been there.

"Let him be okay," she prayed, "heal him."

"Fix us father."

His arms were fixed up without a problem. His family, not so much. Eventually he stopped crying and the family settled into a state of unease. Every few minutes his mommy or daddy would scold him again. Every few minutes Victoria burst into tears.

Later he told him about what he'd seen and, out of fear, they'd sent him away.

But now they sat in the hospital room as a storm lashed out around them, and everything was absolutely not perfect.

The End.


End file.
